NEW YORK—A year ago minus a day, magic struck. It burst off the far end of the bench, sort of gangly and mostly unknown, and started carving away at basketball history.

That night the Knicks of Manhattan, led by this magician named Jeremy Lin, beat the Nets of New Jersey. What followed in the weeks afterward still seems otherworldly. Practically by his lonesome, Lin rejuvenated a woeful team and gave hope to a lost season. Every Knicks game became a global must-see before all involved crashed like Icarus, having flown too close to the sun.

Lin is in Houston now, happily living a normal life where he’s not in danger of crowds toppling him over. He’s just another baller, meshing with James Harden as the Rockets strain to make a playoff push.

The Knicks? Rather quietly—except when an opponent whispers vulgarity in Carmelo Anthony’s ear—the Knicks are on the verge of creating a stretch run that could carry its own kind of spectacular.

On the one-year anniversary of Linsanity (the most overused term in sports history, and one that described the madness perfectly), the Knicks vaulted to 16 games over .500. This wouldn’t be especially noteworthy if hoop geniuses and casual observers alike hadn’t predicted the club to explode dramatically in karmic revenge after the Knicks chose to not match the Rockets’ offer to Lin.

Amare Stoudemire, if his crumbling body even made it back to the court, would either clash with the ball-loving Anthony or pout over his sagging numbers. But look at Stoudemire now, healthier and more muscled than he’s been in years and a fright in the low post. His playing time off the bench—an average of 22.7 minutes for the 16 games he’s been back—seems in perfect synergy with his attitude.

Tyson Chandler, a diligent worker for 12 seasons who nonetheless all too often caused fans in the Garden to mumble in frustration, has responded to coach Mike Woodson’s motivational push by grabbing at least 20 rebounds in three consecutive games. New Yorkers are never prone to hyperbole, so trust Garden fans when they start invoking Willis Reed every time Chandler hits the glass.

Absent Lin, the Knicks’ offense runs through Raymond Felton and Jason Kidd with a little Pablo Prigioni thrown in. It’s often free-flowing, fortified by a generous mix of pick-and-rolls that spring from the baseline corner, isolation sets that offer plenty of chances to launch rainbows and some post play. It might not inspire tens of thousands across Asia to flip on their TVs at sunrise, but it seems to be working even when J.R. Smith goes slightly loco.

(The Knicks being the Knicks, they still have their head-shaking moments. At the Garden on Saturday, with several families from Newtown, Conn., sitting in the front row, and young students from Sandy Hook Elementary School in attendance, some players mimed shooting guns as celebratory gestures. Earlier in the week some of the Knicks had visited Newtown, site of the horrific slaughtering of children. Never does this organization just allow its play to be the focal point.)

Anthony remains the team’s best scorer, its obvious most valuable player, but now the worry doesn’t revolve around his ability to co-exist with Stoudemire. It’s whether Anthony is carrying too much of the load. The Knicks have won their last five games, four by double digits, against mostly lightweights. On Monday night, with the outcome over the Detroit Pistons decided way early, Anthony still clocked nearly 37 minutes and wasn’t removed until 1:31 remained, as the Knicks toyed with a 16-point lead.

Naturally, Anthony doesn’t understand the hand wringing. He and Chandler will represent the Knicks at the All-Star Game later this month, and Anthony figures rest will come in spurts. As for whatever really went down between him and Lin last season—both deny reports of a clash—it’s now milk under the cereal, as Kevin Garnett might say.

“As far as (Linsanity) goes I don’t think we will see that again for a long time, how much that took off,” Anthony said. “Right now, the way we’re playing as a team, what we’ve been doing for the whole season so far, we’re doing a great job. Playing offense, playing defense, but the most important thing is that we trust one another, we believe in one another. We hold each other to high standards. We know what to expect from one another.”

It might just be another Knick tease, for they do a have a habit of turning heads leading into the All-Star break, then coming out flat in the season’s second half. But when Woodson speaks of overtaking Miami in the Eastern Conference before the festivities in Houston begin on Feb. 16, he doesn’t sound like a loon. Sure, the 31-15 Knicks have knocked over their share of dented cans lately, and maybe (probably) no team in the East can beat LeBron James and the Heat four times in the crunch of the playoffs, but not even the hoop geniuses can deny that these Knicks have thus far defied everything but gravity.

“Last season was special for a period of time, really special. It was crazy for that run, but we’re prepared and built for something different now,” said Stoudemire, who has been remarkable since returning from arthroscopic knee surgery Jan.1.

From his spot on the near end of the bench (no griping there), Stoudemire in barely a month has repaired his tattered image. He’s had games where his touch has been perfect, games where he’s flown above the rim, games where he’s a monster in the post against lesser centers, and 11 straight games where he’s scored in double figures. He’s not forever jostling with Anthony or Chandler, because Woodson has timed their appearances brilliantly.

Nobody mentions Lin much around here anymore. Last winter and well into spring his jersey was as ubiquitous as the grey sky, but now there are only hazy memories of that surreal time, those magical moments. Karmic revenge has yet to make an appearance. There’s a ton of energy and spirit soaring around these Knicks. Perhaps this time their wings won’t melt.